Courageous
by xpenemue
Summary: Inspired by Brave. The alliance is crumbling. The dwarves want more land. The Princess does not want to marry. (Thilbo, Dís/Canonical Husband)
1. Chapter 1

For years, the council of the Shire, the lords of the Blue Mountains, Iron Hills, and Moria, and the kingdom of Erebor lived in a fruitful alliance. One that was forged and perfected in war. Each of the lords and the the Took set aside their quams and led their combined armies against the orcish invaders. Durin riding for Erebor, Bullroarer Took for the Shire.

Again the land was peaceful.

Generations later, that same alliance was threatened, not by the will of an outside force, but by the arrogance and greed of those involved. Dwarves, by definition, are suspicious of most anything, so when they would have no contact with their Shire allies, they began to wonder about them. The Shirelings, on the other hand, would flinch away when the dwarves marched, seeking war, seeking violence.

Hobbits, in contrast to dwarves, are soft, treasuring pleasure and food and books above treasure and gold and gems. They were shorter, rounder, with larger feet, and less hair. When the threat of orcs was at its worst, they saw no other option than to ally with their much more battle-worn neighbors.

It had been quite some time after the war, generations, as was mentioned, and the dwarves of the Blue Mountains were trying to expand their territory. Right into the Shire. It was when the Shire's council, made up of each main family's patriarch, began to give up hope on managing the dwarves that a notice from Erebor arrived. Gerontius, the long-lived head of the Took family, stood and read it aloud to his fellow council members.

_"Dearest Members of the Shire Council,_

_The condition of the alliance between us, the Dwarves of Erebor and the halflings _-hobbits-_ of the Shire, has come to our consideration. As your aid is most appreciated during the harsh winter months, my husband and I personally request that one of the council families travel to Erebor with their First Born son in order for him to compete against the heirs of the Iron Hills and the Blue Mountains for the hand of the Princess in marriage._

_It is believed that the suitor's presence would strengthen the relationships between all parties involved._

_We formally grant the suitor with permission to vie for our Princess's favor._

_We hope to receive a reply as soon as possible._

_With many thanks,_

_Thrain II, King Under the Mountain, and Lerra of Moria, Queen Under the Mountain."_

The council remained silent for a moment after the letter's reading, and Gerontius sat, his old eyes scanning the hobbits before him. He was curious, so to a fault, to see which family head would speak up first. He eyed the Proudfoot, the Boffin, the Brandybuck. His own First Born son, Isengrim, was far too old at this point, so he continued to look over the other gentlehobbits.

He was definitely surprised when Bungo Baggins cleared his throat. The Old Took's eyebrows rose as his son in-law stood. Bungo ruffled his dark brown hair before speaking, eyes fixed away from Gerontius.

"Bilbo would be a good lad for it, don't you agree?" Bungo said, finally moving his gaze up to his father in-law's stunned face. Gerontius pursed his lips.

"I suppose he would be. Would anyone else like to nominate their son?" He glanced at the rest of the council members, none made any move.

Damn these hobbits and their respectability. Gerontius thought with a sigh before nodding to Bungo.

"Then inform Bella and Bilbo. I'm sure they'll have quite a bit to say about your decision."

Bungo nodded, and stepped forward to shake Gerontius's hand, before turning back and returning to Bag End.

Bungo did not hurry when he got closer, instead, he began to worry what Belladonna would think. Rightly so, too. He'd blindly offered their only child to dwarves. Bella would wring his neck for this, no doubt. He entered the smial and looked around, seeing Bilbo first. He grinned, a toothy smile, and walked to his son, putting his hand on Bilbo's shoulders, causing him to look up from his book.

"Well, son-"

"What did you do?" Bilbo looked at him with an arched brow.

"Why do you assume I did something?" Bungo asked, taking a close look at his son.

"The only times you do this are with mum. You go up to her and say, well, honey, and it's always got something to do with something stupid, so what did you do?"

Bungo grinned. So much like Bella, his Bilbo was. "You see, today at the meeting, we got a letter from Erebor. The King and Queen have requested that one of us bring our first born son to Erebor to vie for the Princess's hand."

"And you volunteered me, didn't you."

"I did."

Bilbo set the book down on the end table, hands shaking. "Dad, you know how I feel about... Marriage." He spit the word out as if it were venom. "I don't want to marry. If you would just let me have my way and not try to force girls down my throat, you'd see it. I want to remain a bachelor. I would rather have my books and tea and scones than a family. Dad," he took Bungo's hand and stood, "I'm not like you. I know how you always wanted the domestic life, and you had that with mum, but I don't want that. I want to learn, that's all."

Bungo nodded. "I know that, but we can't afford to ruin the alliance. No one else dared." He met his son's eyes. "You know what. Botch it. Whatever they have you do, botch it, but make it look like you tried." He rubbed Bilbo's shoulder. "Alright?"

Bilbo nodded reluctantly, before gesturing to the back garden. "Now just tell mum."

Bungo's eyes bugged, and he gulped but nodded and went down the hall, nonetheless.

"Good luck, dad!" Bilbo called before he sat back in his seat, taking up his book, the weight that had settled on his shoulders relinquished.

Belladonna didn't quite react the way Bungo had expected, most likely because he'd told her about Bilbo's and his plan. She had nodded with her lips pursed, clearly not happy with the way he'd handled things, but had forgiven him quick enough.

It was the day after that Bungo sent a raven with a note to the King Under the Mountain, telling him to expect a suitor from the Shire, and that they accepted the offer.

They soon began their journey, using the safe and well-traveled roads.

Bilbo took in a deep breath, feeling as though he was not prepared whatsoever for whatever laid ahead.


	2. Chapter 2

The Royal Family of Erebor had gathered in the less formal dining room for dinner when the letters came. One was properly sealed with the signet of the lord Firebeard. The one beside it was a rolled parchment that appeared to be hastily prepared, and the last was a single piece of parchment with what looked like a poor copy of the Ironfoot signet. Lerra, Queen Under the Mountain, eyed each curiously before sweeping them from the servant and reading them. Her eyes went wide, and the rest of the family paused in their meal, looking at her expectantly.

"They've all accepted. Firebeards, Ironfoots, and Bagginses of the Shire. They've all accepted." She looked up to Dís, the shock in her daughter's eyes as well.

"What?!" The others chorused, Thráin sounding slightly amused. Dís stood from the table, fists clenched, and quickly ripped the letters from her mother's hands.

We're quite looking forward to the competition, the Firebeards had written. The bloodthirsty bastards. Dís scowled at the page, hoping it would burn in her hand, before turning to the next.

While he is nervous, I have faith my lad will win your daughter's hand. This came from the Bagginses and she shook her head. Weren't the Shirelings supposed to be above all this?

My adad says no, but I'm coming anyway. Signed Dain Ironfoot. She rolled her eyes. From what she knew, Dain had had a crush on her for a while. Now that her parents were carelessly giving him the opportunity, he would take it.

With a scowl, Dís threw the letters onto the floor, and turned to her mother, who had stood from the table, an affronted expression on her face.

"I didn't even want to get married, amad. Not yet! I wanted to fall in love. Didn't you and adad fall in love? Aren't you Sanzueh? I wanted that! And you can't force me to marry one of these stupid, pompous suitors just for the sake of alliance." Dís closed her eyes, her hands shaking. "It's not my fault you're all having a disagreement. It's not any of our faults." Lerra stepped forward and grabbed her daughter's hand.

"Âzyung. My precious little girl. Your father was one of my suitors. I hadn't need of a competition because the moment I saw him, I knew. Give that a chance. Maybe you'll see him when he arrives and say, 'that is my Sanzueh'. I want you to be happy. I need you to cooperate." Lerra set her hand on her daughter's shoulder, looking carefully into Dís' s eyes, blue, just like hers.

"This could go well for you, mizimith. But this is also for the good of all four kingdoms. You can't only think of yourself." She stepped back and returned to her seat at the table. Dís sighed.

"I'm going to my room." She mumbled before fleeing from the dining hall.

Her brothers exchanged a glance. Frerin spoke up first, standing from the table.

"May we be excused?"

Thráin looked up at him, and seemed to look somewhat grateful. "By all means, go. Talk some sense into your bullheaded sister."

The brothers nodded before following down the hall Dís had used.

"She gets it from your side of the family." They heard their mother hiss.

A knock came at the door, followed by muffled voices. One was deeper, scolding the other, while the other was softer, kinder, teasing the one.

"You can come in." Dís called out, turning from where she had stopped her pace. One of these days, she would carve a ditch in the floor, allthis pacing she had been doing.

The two entered, after Thorin shoved Frerin for whatever he had said outside, and stepped forward, keeping a safe distance from their sister.

"What are you planning?" Thorin asked her. She knit her brows.

"Dear nadad, why do you assume I'm planning something?" The dwarrowdam turned and paced a few steps away from her brothers.

"You're unhappy, and you plan things when you're unhappy." Frerin stated plainly, his hand running through his wild black hair, why he never bothered to braid it was a mystery to both Thorin and Dís, and she glared at him.

"Of course. I'm going to make it a competition none of my suitors will be able to win... hopefully." She held herself tall and turned away from her brothers, her mind had been concocting this plan ever since she'd read the letters. Mahal, she hoped it would work. "You two know what I want. And you two know how I'm going to get it."

"By force." Thorin deadpanned, and the princess grinned, looking back over her shoulder.

"Nadad, you know me so well."

"I only wanted to do right by her." Lerra said, shifting mourning through the letters in her hands, still kneeling on the floor where they had fell. Thráin looked up at her from the table, noting her expression.

"You also wanted to do right by our people." He said. "As a mother, it is only a choice to make. You can either do what is right for our daughter, or for your kingdom."

Lerra let out a long sigh, letting her head fall. "I wish to do right by her, you know I do. I want to watch her fall in love, meet her Sanzueh. It would be selfish to want to choose our daughter over all else, I know it would, but it's Dís. It our daughter, and I must do right by her."

Thráin gave her a soft look and, getting up from his chair and joining her, took her hand. "Âzyung, if it is your decision, it is the right one, and I will always support you, but shouldn't we at least let her meet her suitors and choose from them?"

The queen looked up, her eyes fixing on her husband, before standing. "We could. For all we know, her Sanzueh could be a Firebeard!"

"Yes." Thráin replied with a grin before leading his wife away from the dining room and down the hall.

"Or the Ironfoot lad."

"Yes."

"Or a halfling."

"Hopefully not."


End file.
